The Isabel Trail: a spontaneously circuitous sillage-seeking cycle ride

Source: visitstafford.org

There's no more news to report of the war on Tootsie...well, other than the fact that I have swapped the positions of Truffle's water and food bowls around - so the food bowl is now by the entrance to the dining room, and hence that bit further for an incorrigible cat burglar to venture in pursuit of kibble contraband. Truffle seems mightily perplexed by the switch, and has taken to staking out her water bowl, lounging pointedly just in front of it and shooting me disapproving glances over one shoulder, even as I crouch a few feet away, rattling the contents of her newly relocated food station. Oh, and I also had occasion to chase Tootsie out of the garden and down the service road by the side of my house at 2.20am on Saturday morning, Anti-Cat in hand. He hunkered down under a white van for a while, before sprinting towards a garden wall on his own street and leaping over it to safety, so nary a squirt was fired. If there are any major developments, however, I will be sure to report back!

Source: Stafford Borough Council

Meanwhile, I have decided to get off my backside this summer and do some exercise. No, really. I know I include some variant of the 'exercise more!' imperative in my New Year's post with monotonous regularity - albeit it was couched as generating 'teeming neurons' this year - but you may be sure it is the  same hoary old resolution chestnut that is safe to disregard, just as I do. But a July resolution smacks of something more serious. Various things have conspired to make me feel like shaking a leg a bit more: I had my bike fixed recently, which set me back £75 for a new tyre and two inner tubes, so I feel I should get my money's worth from that repair; also Val the Cookie Queen of APJ has been bigging up the health benefits of squats recently, such that I have even started to do some sets every time I reheat my tea in the microwave (which is quite often!). Then on Sunday I also happened to take some promo photos of ex-Mr Bonkers, posing with a new gig bag he's bought - they are to be included in his application to the manufacturer to be one of their product 'endorsers'. As a thank you he offered to give me back the home gym I had given him some 17 years ago(!), which he has not used in all that time. I had in fact been thinking lately that even though I barely do exercise of any kind myself at the moment - apart from a fairly fitful attendance at a Pilates class - I do even less of anything resembling weight training, so I jumped at his offer.

Source: productreview.com.au

With all these good intentions whirring round in my brain, I leapt out of bed this morning and got dressed to go for a jog. Only to find that the soles of both my trainers were hanging off and will need professional gluing by a cobbler. Okay, it's a bike ride then! Accordingly, I found myself uncharacteristically cycling the length and length (it's not very broad) of the Isabel Trail, a cycle path that weaves its way between the industrial estates of Stafford, from the northern perimeter of the town down to somewhere south of the middle. The path is overhung in places by a canopy of trees, and if it weren't for the intermittent cacophony of industrial noises emanating from factory units left and right, you could easily fancy yourself in the country!

Source: Google Sites

Occasionally I would overtake a jogger, or a walker on the path, including at one point a mature lady dressed in what I took to be the uniform of the Royal Voluntary Service, though I wouldn't swear to that. She wore a bottle green skirt and a button down white blouse, topped off with a lanyard, and seemed set on walking to the very end of the path. As I went up and down the trail, revelling in the faux-rural feel in the midst of an urban area, I passed this lady from both directions, When I came up from behind I could distinctly smell her perfume, though not when I cycled past her going the other way. Intrigued by her pleasantly powdery sillage, I made a point of cycling up and down even more(!) to catch further whiffs of whatever it was she was wearing. Eventually, it struck me that she might be a little alarmed by my repeated overtaking manoeuvres, so I decided to come clean the next time I approached, and ask her straight out what she was wearing.

A little side path I also rode down ~ Source: Jim Fogarty

"Kenzo Flowers!" the lady replied cheerily, to which I replied that I had the Oriental version, and that she smelt lovely in the original. "What a good start to a Monday!" I added, as much to apologise for my weird stalking as to compliment her on her choice of scent. She beamed back at me, and I was glad we had had that little exchange: my curiosity was satisfied and her morale boosted, or so it seemed - in short a win-win, as they say.

Once home, I went straight to the cupboard under the stairs and fished out my vial of Flower by Kenzo (to give it its official name) from a little plastic bag where it has been languishing for all of 8 years at a guess. I sprayed it on, and whilst I still prefer its darker and more edgy Oriental sibling, I can see why Tania Sanchez gave it a generous four stars, and why my go-to review resource of Bois de Jasmin (from whom I have pinched the notes) upped that to five.

Notes: "Wild hawthorn, Bulgarian rose, Parma violet, cassia, hedione, cyclosal, opoponax, white musk, vanilla."

In her review, Tania Sanchez mentions how Luca Turin spotted the striking resemblance between Flower by Kenzo and Caron's Royal Bain de Champagne, the bubble bath version of which I was kindly given by my friend Rachael Potts. I can totally see that connection, albeit Flower has more overt notes of rose and violet as far as I can recall, spiked with shafts of jasmine, like the sun dappling the path this morning through the tangle of trees. But that whole tender, expansive, vanilla / opoponax baby powder thing?...both scents have got it going on big style.

What is also interesting about this morning's events, apart from the Caron similarity which had hitherto passed me by, and for which I have the lady in green indirectly to thank, is that I could immediately visualise in which little polythene bag in which box my sample was lurking, even though I hadn't gone near it in years. Which got me wondering if anyone else reckons they have a photographic memory of their collection. I must say I surprised myself that I could drill down to the very plastic bag in question!

So...getting a bit of fresh air and exercise, and bonding with a Kenzo scent whose charms I had largely overlooked, was indeed a great way to kick off the week. I even sat at my desk with my feet on a spiky massage ball for a bit this morning.

Wherever will it all end? Doubled up in bed groaning? Yes, maybe...!

The Little Book Of Perfumes - The 100 Classics: My Unclassic Taste, And Judging A Book By Its Cover

I have had The Little Book of Perfumes for some time now, and a number of excellent blog posts about it have already appeared on the likes of Olfactarama, Perfume Shrine and Now Smell This. Additionally, Robin of NST hosted a readers' Q & A session with authors Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez, which made fascinating reading, even though my own - admittedly rather trivial - question wasn't featured(!), of which more anon.

So given that there are a number of reviews of The Little Book of Perfumes in circulation, most people will have caught up with the fact that this compilation of 100 classic scents is a sample of previous reviews featured in Perfumes: The Guide, and has not been revised to include any new five star perfumes which may have impressed the authors since, which I suppose I had half hoped it would. Turin and Sanchez weren't given any "additional advances or royalties" apparently to produce The Little Book of Perfumes, though I assume they will get royalties of some kind for this latest reworking. I am sure the new publication will do very well for them: it is such a slim and attractively produced volume that I can see it making a perfect stocking filler for perfumistas and "regular" perfume wearers alike.

In her introduction to the book, Sanchez explains the premise on which the featured fragrances were selected:

"The fragrances reviewed in this book are not the greatest of all time - instead, they are those that struck us as far above their peers in quality, inventiveness, or straightforward beauty..."

In addition to the introduction, the extra content includes a few new lists, such as Turin and Sanchez's ten "Desert Island" scents, plus lists called "Best bang for your bucks" and "Best big ticket splurges". I wish! (And instead of star ratings - for these perfumes are of course already the crème de la crème - there are handy $$$ codings to indicate price bracket, like the ones you might find in a restaurant guide.) Then there is a chapter on The Osmothèque museum, together with reviews of four extinct and much lamented scents that the authors would love to see revived, and a chapter on how to beg, borrow or buy perfume samples prior to taking the full bottle plunge, complete with useful names of sources like Luckyscent and The Perfumed Court.

But the main difference between the presentation of reviews in Perfumes: The Guide and in The Little Book of Perfumes is that the wicked humour is confined to some of the updates on reformulations, which have been added beneath a good third of the reviews. So for anyone missing the glorious trademark vitriol of Perfumes: The Guide, they will still find the odd gem in here:

"It's not Joy, but it's not sadness either."

Plus there is Sanchez's dissenting view of Etat Libre d'Orange's notorious Sécrétions Magnifiques, which she would have excluded from the book, but was overruled by her other half(!):

"...absolutely revolting, like a drop of J'Adore on an oyster you know you shouldn't eat".

For the most part, though, the tone of The Little Book of Perfumes is appreciative, and the authors do in fact consider some of the reformulations to have been a change for the better; then with other scents they feel that the perfumers in question have done a good job of "damage limitation" in difficult circumstances (ie working within the constraints of the IFRA restrictions). And in some cases the fragrance may have been radically - and on balance regrettably - altered, yet Turin and Sanchez judge the new version still to have considerable merit.

So as you can imagine the market researcher in me couldn't resist totting up the scents in The Little Book of Perfumes to see to what extent I have "classic" taste. First of all, I had to take out the 15 perfumes I have never tried, and the four included in the Osmothèque section, which obviously I couldn't have tried either, which left 81. Of these, I like just 26 (c32%), split equally between "like a lot" and "actively like but am not that wowed by".

Now I know there are quite a lot of men's fragrances in here, but still... This means that out of the universe of scents I know, I only love 16% of the ones Turin and Sanchez do, which isn't a very high number for someone purporting to be a perfumista. And of only one of them do I own a full bottle (Bvlgari Black). But I am not troubled by this - I like what I like, and there it is.

For what it's worth, here is my "like a lot" list (which is not totally set in stone and also includes one or two perfumes that I probably "admire a lot" rather than love as such):

Bvlgari Black
Chanel 31 rue Cambon
Chanel Bois des Iles
Chanel Cristalle
Chanel Cuir de Russie
Chanel pour Monsieur (on a man)
Dior Homme (on a man)
Guerlain Apres L'Ondée
Guerlain Chamade
L'Artisan Dzing!
Ormonde Jayne Woman
Parfums MDCI Promesse de L'Aube
Tauer L'Air du Désert Marocain

And finally there is the matter of my unanswered question over on Now Smell This, which relates to the covers: they are different in the US and UK editions, plus the lining paper inside the cover is lime green in the UK version and hot pink in the American one.

"What was the thinking behind the two covers/liners then? Why would two versions be necessary? Was this focus grouped in advance? : - ) "

This question continues to puzzle me - did someone take a stylistic decision that Americans would prefer the dotty design, while Europeans would appreciate the gold squiggles and etchings of perfume bottles? Are Americans more drawn to shocking pink than acid green? The most likely answer is simply the fact that the publishers are different: Penguin US and Profile UK respectively, so perhaps each house wanted to "leave its stamp" by differentiating its version of the book from that of the other company.

Would the authors have preferred a uniform "livery", or didn't they have any strong feelings on the matter? I have to say that both designs look attractive, though I prefer the European version. My promised complimentary copy from Penguin US never made it through, so I haven't been able to take close up photos of the alternative design.

Also, what was the thinking behind cutting the paper of the book on the bias (which I assume happened with both editions)? The paper is shaped like a sort of trapezium, which I have never seen before. Is this a random mould-breaking act? Does it perhaps connote Incan temples and associated notions of worship and gods, as befits these classic, "best of" fragrances? Or did the chappy at the printer's operating the guillotine (in both continents) simply have a wonky eye, much like the proof reader who failed to spot "DAZZINGLY" in the quote from India Knight on the UK cover?

Question time....

So for those of you who have a copy of The Little Book of Perfumes already, what % of scents that you know do you like/love? Which are they?

And for anyone reading, which design of the book do you prefer? Is it the one available in your part of the world, or do you have intercontinental leanings?



Photo of US copy of The Little Book of Perfumes and photo of Bvlgari Black both from Amazon, photo of Sécrétions Magnifiques logo from faconalmode.blogspot.com, other photos my own.

Lalique Flora Bella: A Four Star Sleeper Bought With Eyes Wide Shut...

In the very early days of Bonkers, I wrote a review of Jasper Conran Woman, a super cheap citrussy chypre of which you can still pick up gift sets (with body lotion!) for under a tenner in UK supermarkets. Tania Sanchez gave it four stars in Perfumes: The Guide, and likened it to Chanel pour Monsieur, yet it remains lost in obscurity and condemned to a slow death languishing in the bargain bins of Asda.

While I was over in Berlin recently, I had a good old chat with the male sales assistant at Sahling best of beauty in Galeries Lafayette, whose unbridled enthusiasm for Lalique Flora Bella (which he didn't stock, sadly) made a major impression on me. It prompted him to dream of a tropical paradise, where a handsome, raven-haired surfer dude with violet eyes crests the waves and flits in and out of view like a tantalising chimera.

You won't therefore be surprised to learn that one of the first things I did when I got home from Germany (after the usual suspects of unpacking, washing, emergency plant rescue and placating the cat, who always pretends not to recognise me if I have been away for more than a couple of days), was to get onto the Cheapsmells website and snag a bottle of this for under £17, including shipping. As I said in my Berlin Sniffathon report, it was well worth that amount just to see what all the fuss was about - or wasn't...And of course Flora Bella was created by Bertrand Duchaufour, who surely must be incapable of having an off day and creating a duffer.

Now I haven't blind bought anything for a very long time - in fact, I can't remember what the last bottle was, it is so long ago - but sometimes the thrill of the gamble is worth the risk, and if you do end up liking the scent in question, you really are quids in. Well, I have now worn Flora Bella a few times and what can I say? I thought I had smelt it all...but then this lactonic beauty came along. Hmm, I can't seem to find two note listings that agree, but here are a couple to kick us off:

BASENOTES

Top Notes: mandarin, bergamot, baie rose

Middle Notes: Daphne flower, frangipani blossom, vanilla, sweet almond

Base Notes: amber, vanilla, white musk

FRAGRANTICA

Notes: mandarin, bergamot, rose, violet, frangipani, freesia, cassia flower, mimosa, tuberose, carnation, orchid, tiare flower, white musk, vanilla and spices

I had to google Daphne flower and came across an authoritative article on the subject by Octavian of 1000 Fragrances, of which this extract seemed the most relevant:

"Daphne mezereum is maybe the best known type, but there are other scented Daphne flowers like Daphne alpina, Daphne cneorum, Daphne striata, Daphne philippi, Daphne blagayana, Daphne laureola, etc. They are all scented, covering many types of notes: rather strong, heavy, vanilla-like around an aromatic spicy concept, and there is even one that has a violet note."

That's assuming there is Daphne flower in here, of course, and the lack of congruence in note listings suggests that the jury is not only "out", but has long since dispersed and toddled off home. I have just googled a few more note lists and found sporadic additional references to lilac and blackcurrant! What an olfactory shapeshifter this scent is turning out to be...it definitely has a "pick your own" style of note list, so I am going to keep Daphne flower for starters.

A word on the packaging next: for example, the box is a rather nasty shade of mauve - I say nasty, though that is in fact the colour of the bedroom carpet in the spare room, which is also picked out in the curtains, so I must have liked it at one point. As for the bottle, it has those pleasingly square and chunky Lalique "house" contours, with hobnail studs on the edges, not unlike a musician's flight case, or the milk jug pictured further down. (I will come back presently to these twin themes of metal rivets and dairy products...)

Now here's another shapeshifting dimension to this scent - if you google pictures of the bottle, 90% of the images you find show the juice to be blue or mauve! How mad is that? I found just one or two where the perfume looks its actual colour, which is in fact a sort of washed out plum. Why should that be, I wonder?

On to the smell of the fragrance - not before time, I hear you clamour! The first thing that struck me is its lush, enveloping warmth. Texturally, I was reminded of Puredistance 1, another ambery-musky scent, but this struck me as a much airier version - and I said Puredistance 1 was airy in my recent review of it!

And I am of course assuming that Flora Bella does have amber in it, which it seems to to me, so I'm going to appropriate amber too in my pick 'n' mix note list. Oh and on my friend at the weekend - who also fell in love with this one and has probably bought her own bottle by now from the same site - it smelt remarkably similar to DKNY Gold. Once again it seemed lighter and airier than Gold, while still managing to be potent and lush. Now for sure, that is a clever stunt to pull all right - to be simultaneously full-bodied and airy - but Flora Bella is that contradictory chameleon!

DKNY GOLD

Notes: patchouli, balsam, acacia flowers, jasmine, Casablanca lily, clove, amber

Okay, so those notes looks nothing like Flora Bella on paper, but they share a beguiling sensuality, and even in the absence of lily in Flora Bella, the similarity was compelling on my friend's arm. I don't get any particular development with Flora Bella, just this initial big whoosh of gorgeous sweet florals, suspended in an airy, milky cloud over a musky, amber base. And for the record, my friend doesn't care for overtly vanilla-y scents, so this manages to be milky without straying into Yankee vanilla candle territory.

In a Facebook exchange, Olenska of Parfumieren drew my attention to the fact that Tania Sanchez also gives this scent four stars in Perfumes: The Guide. Which was an additional source of "post-purchase cognitive assonance", not that any was needed by this point, as I was well and truly smitten.

Tania's overall caption for this scent is "milky metallic", and she goes on to speak of its "dreamy, dense, milky note, which reminds me of a Filipino dessert of sweetened condensed milk poured over shaved ice", later summing Flora Bella up as "Silver, chilled cream, and a far-reaching transparent glow: it should have been called Luna Piena instead".

So now of course I had to google "Luna Piena", whose preeminent incarnation in Google seems to be an Italian restaurant in Whitby. I don't suppose Tania had that in mind at all. I have now quickly consulted an online dictionary and confirmed that this phrase is simply the Italian for "full moon". : - )

I had already formed my thoughts before reading this review, but I totally agree with the dessert-y aspect. And there is definitely a steely, flinty edge to Flora Bella too (cue rivets and milk jug!). Alain in Sahling spoke of a saltiness counterbalancing the lush tropical flowers, but it may well be this helional-"sucked spoon" note Luca Turin has identified, and to which Tania makes reference in her review.

Olenska picks up the lunar theme in her own review of Flora Bella, describing it as: "truly a lunar phenomenon, unsettling and alien."

Now that I have lived with Flora Bella for a while, I can totally see why Alain the SA is captivated by it, and why it is his favourite scent of all. I would also urge anyone who normally shies away from blind buys to take the plunge on this one. It is dreamy and creamy, and it is a bit metallic, though I personally find it warm rather than chilled. Maybe it's my age - a lot of things feel warm to me these days!

But anyway, my advice is simple: "There's a full moon, so do something a little lunar/loony - close your eyes and hit "Add to cart"...




Photo of island from capacitacionvirtual.net, photo of surfer from blog.holidayparkhols.co.uk, photo of Daphne flower from slice-heaven.com, photo of flight case from ranedj0.co.cc, photo of jug from trocadero.com, photo of Flora Bella bottle (blue) from perfumezilla.com, photo of full moon over water from chicks-beach.com, other photo my own